Gemotions

The listing appeared on her social media feed, a cruel reminder of time's ceaseless march. The photographs, vibrant and crisp, did nothing to penetrate the fog that had settled over her. The house, bathed in sunlight, looked so remote, so untouched by her presence.

She should feel something, right? A pang of nostalgia, a wave of sadness, something to acknowledge the passage of time. The emotion wasn't there. The feeling was replaced by a dull ache in her chest.

She went to the fridge and poured herself a glass of water, although she wasn't particularly thirsty. The mundane act felt like a lifeline, the familiar gesture of self-preservation.